By Any Other Name
by melbelle310
Summary: Post-Episode oneshot for 6x9 "Traitor", in which Eric wants to know why everyone is calling him "Beale". Complete.


**By Any Other Name**

**Summary: **Post-Episode oneshot for 6x9 "Traitor", in which Eric wants to know why everyone is calling him "Beale"

**Author's Note:** There was a lot of talk on Tumblr after "Traitor" aired, including Eric becoming "Beale" and all the parallels with the glasses. This oneshot was inspired by these discussions. Title inspired by "that which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet" (originally Shakespeare, although I know it better from the Princess Diaries).

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS LA or any of the characters.

"You look better without 'em," Nell complimented, removing the glasses from Eric's face. He smiled, remembering the first time she had made a comment of that nature a few months earlier after meeting Ira.

"Okay, I think that's our cue," Callen announced, leading the rest of the agents out of the boatshed. Nell and Eric ignored them as she began a more intense examination of his injuries.

"What is this?" she asked. He winced as she reached out to the cut on his eyebrow. Her mind flashed back to the moment she had returned to OPS with a similar injury many months earlier, and for a moment she could feel the tenderness in Eric's fingers that day as he traced her cut. "Old building," she grinned, clearly proud of her partner for his signal. They had joked about it once when she first arrived and was still getting the lay of the land, but somehow the building's age had become increasingly important this year.

"Old building," he nodded, wearing a smile to match. She held his gaze for a moment longer before looking down at the pair of glasses she still held in her hands. She could feel him watching her as she examined the damage that had been done. Cracks populated one of the lenses, and the nosepiece bent at an abnormal angle. She silently stood and walked to a small cabinet in the corner, where the team kept a set of small tools, in search of pliers with which she could adjust them.

"Hey Nell?" Eric asked as she rummaged through the toolbox. She looked up from her task for a moment to indicate that she had heard him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she replied, feigning confidence even as a dozen nervous thoughts ran through her mind. The few seconds of silence that followed her response dragged on tensely. She looked back down at the glasses and pliers, suddenly desperate for a distraction, and set about fixing what she could.

"Why doesn't anyone call me 'Eric' anymore?" he finally inquired. Though his voice was steady, Nell could hear pain and apprehension behind it. "I mean, Hetty has always called me 'Mr. Beale', but lately, the whole team has been doing it. Even you," he rambled, his voice dropping at the end as if he didn't want to point out her behavior.

Nell took a deep breath to steady her rapidly-beating heart. She had tried to hide the change from him, but that had become impossible earlier in the day when his bank account had been hacked, and she had never considered how she might explain it if he asked. Her heartrate finally calmed even as her mind raced on, and she turned toward him.

"I couldn't tell you why the rest of the team switched to 'Beale'," she began, skirting the question she knew he really wanted answered as she walked back to sit across from him again. He reached out for his glasses as she settled into her seat, but he held them in his lap instead of putting them on.

"But what about you?" he prodded. She sighed.

"I had to find a way to separate my personal life from the work we do. I didn't want to fall into the same trap that Kensi and Deeks did last year when everything got tangled up. I thought that if I switched to your last name, at least in my mind, I could stay more professional. It wouldn't be as...intimate," she admitted.

"So you started calling me 'Beale' because 'Eric' is too sexy?" he checked, a smirk threatening to cross his face.

"I never said sexy," she argued, although the blush coloring her cheeks implied otherwise. "I said intimate." His smirk reappeared, and they sat quietly for a moment before he spoke up again.

"Why has it become so important for you to separate our personal lives from OPS?" Eric asked, his face turning serious once more. "I know that you try to keep them separate in general, but what's changed about us? It's not like we're in a relationship or something..." he trailed off.

"True," she agreed, thinking. His jaw dropped. "What?"

"Did I just say the r-word and get away with it?" he joked. They stared at each other for a moment, and the smirk that had begun moments before re-emerged as a full smile. Suddenly, Eric's stomach growled obnoxiously, interrupting their otherwise quiet moment in the boatshed.

"I guess I'm kinda hungry," he admitted sheepishly.

"Being in a life-threatening situation can do that," she agreed, standing. "Come on, my treat."

"Give me a hand? I don't think my glasses are going to be of much use until I get this lens replaced." He reached out in her general direction, and she took his hand, helping him steady his balance and ignoring the sparks that she felt when their palms touched. She wasn't about to argue with Eric – there was no way that he could drive safely without being able to see. On top of that, she had always preferred seeing him without his glasses on.

"I was thinking we'd go to the diner and get some of those fantastic cheese fries?" she requested. She led him out of the boatshed to where she had parked. Their hands, still clasped, fell between them as they walked out of the building.

"One more question," Eric paused their conversation, which had turned into a discussion of their favorite places to eat in LA, as they reached Nell's car. "Does this mean I can be 'Eric' again?" Nell thought for a moment about the implications of his question. Part of her wanted to go back to the way things had been for so long, but she felt like they were about to cross a new barrier, and she wanted to play things safe until they had made it safely across. She smirked as her mind wandered in an entirely different direction, sparked by his comment from earlier in their conversation. She imagined the way his name would sound early on a lazy morning while she was still half asleep, or whispered late at night, or moaned passionately. She shook the thoughts from her head. They had a long way to go before she could say his name like that.

**Author's Note: **Hope you enjoyed it – please leave a review!


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